


Patch Your Wounds

by OrdinaryVegan



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Not even a little sorry, Post-Canon, Tumblr Prompt, andrew your feelings are showing, blame the cats, it's more soft fluffy andreil, neil is clumsy, what do you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 11:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10570419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrdinaryVegan/pseuds/OrdinaryVegan
Summary: “Really, Neil,” Andrew drawls. He could have chosen to phrase it as a question, but Neil knows he isn’t surprised. It’s more of an acknowledgement of Neil’s apparent inability to remain injury-free. “You’ve been here for less than forty-five seconds, and you’re already bleeding on my carpet.”---In which Neil is a klutz, the cats are a nuisance, and Andrew is his own special brand of helpful.





	

**Author's Note:**

> prompt by anon: u know that post that's like "humans cry because they feel too much of one emotion and their brain can't do anything but force it out as tears"? okay now imagine neil + a moment of overwhelming love for a certain 5'0" goalie
> 
>  
> 
> -tweaked the prompt just the tiniest bit :)

“Andrew! Holy shit!” Neil kicks Andrew’s apartment door open with enough force that it hits the wall and swings back, nearly smacking him in the face. He jumps inside at the last second, just quick enough to dodge it. His balance is thrown off as he makes a grab for the wall, attempting to slow his descent. Unfortunately, this puts him directly in the path of Sir Fat Cat McCatterson. One more step, and Neil will crush his tiny, orange head. That is unacceptable.

Instead, Neil pushes away from the wall, changing the angle of his fall and saving Sir in the process. He lands face-down on the floor, somehow having clipped the edge of the small wooden table by the opposite wall that houses keys, wallets, and cigarettes. 

The fall knocks the breath right out of his lungs, but Neil slowly rolls over, studiously ignoring the blood he can feel running down the side of his face. He groans out an, “ _Oh, fuck,_ ” before giving in to the small coughing fit he thought he could hold back. The force of it pulls him onto his left side, where he comes face to face with the reason for his current predicament.

Sir cocks his head slightly to the side, meows once, and walks away. Neil tells himself that the last minute flick of Sir’s tail in his face was _not_ meant to be insulting. 

His eyes are rather blurred, but if he’s not mistaken, the dark, humanlike shape leaning against the kitchen doorframe is frowning at him. 

“Really, Neil,” Andrew drawls. He could have chosen to phrase it as a question, but Neil knows he isn’t surprised. It’s more of an acknowledgement of Neil’s apparent inability to remain injury-free. “You’ve been here for less than forty-five seconds, and you’re already bleeding on my carpet.”

Neil coughs again when he tries to answer, so instead he settles for pushing himself up onto his knees, right hand flying to his face in an attempt to stop his nose from bleeding. He fails.

Andrew sighs, exasperated and put-upon, but thankfully begins moving toward him. Neil isn’t sure he could stay upright if he attempted to stand on his own. Andrew shoves away from the wall and makes his way over, but he bypasses Neil in favor of closing the front door that had remained slightly ajar. 

“Honestly, do I have to do everything around here?” Andrew says as he locks the door with a quick turn of his wrist. Neil watches, appalled, as Andrew looks down to see that Sir has followed him back into the front hallway. He bends down to stroke along his spine, then picks him up and begins to scratch behind his ears. Neil can hear the purring from his place on the floor, still injured, still coughing, and still very much bleeding onto Andrew’s beloved carpet. 

When Andrew finally deigns to look up at Neil, he takes his time with letting his eyes travel all over Neil’s face. He gently returns Sir to the ground and watches as he scampers off into the living room. Then, he makes his way over to Neil, crouching down to balance on the balls of his feet and take in Neil’s current state.

“Our cat just gave you a black eye and a broken nose,” Andrew says. And then he smirks. He fucking smirks.

Neil manages to croak out, “Asshole,” before another coughing fit takes him. 

Andrew rolls his eyes but apparently decides that he’s made Neil suffer enough. How kind of him. “Come on, junkie,” he says as he takes hold of Neil’s free arm. “Don’t bleed on me.”

Andrew hauls him up and begins dragging him to the bathroom, ignoring Neil when he mutters, “Not broken.” 

They reach their destination, and Neil stumbles over to the counter, instantly turning on the faucet to begin washing the blood from his face. He hears Andrew moving about behind him and turns to see him gently shoving Sir back out into the hallway.

“You’ve helped enough for tonight,” Andrew says quietly as he successfully closes the door. He steps further into the room and reaches above Neil’s head for the medicine cabinet, removing the small first aid kit that they always keep on hand. Neil stops tracking his movements and tilts his head back, the blood flow slowing nearly to a stop. The coughing fit has finally subsided, so at least he isn’t spraying blood all over the mirror. That’s a plus.

Neil lowers his head to take in his reflection, eyes bypassing old scars in search of new additions. His nose is definitely the worst of it, the pain causing his eyes to water with each breath he drags into his lungs. A gash above his left eyebrow must have contributed substantially to the blood that is now drying on his face, and a dark shadow is beginning to form below his eye, just as Andrew had predicted. Dammit. 

He tears his gaze away when he feels a tug on his shirt and looks up in time to see Andrew jerk his head to the right, asking him to follow. Andrew moves to sit on the edge of the tub, and Neil mirrors him. Andrew balances the first aid kit on the leg he has drawn up beneath him, and he digs around until he finds the small bottle of Neosporin and a few q-tips. He grabs Neil’s chin and pulls him closer so he can get a better look at the cut above his brow.

“Are you sure you don’t need your glasses for this?” Neil asks in a half-hearted tease.

Andrew narrows his eyes and purposefully hits Neil’s nose as he moves to clean the remaining blood from his forehead. Tears spring to Neil’s eyes, unbidden and unwelcome but uncontrollable. 

Andrew sighs again, as if there really are better things he could be doing with his time. “Was there a reason for your dramatic entrance that almost killed Sir and broke my side table?” He asks calmly, as he carefully dabs at the cut. 

Neil realizes that until this moment, he had indeed completely forgotten about why he was so excited. He gasps when it all comes back to him, which is rather ill-advised as it only serves to bring more tears to his eyes. He reaches up to pull Andrew’s wrist away from where he has almost finished cleaning the gash. Andrew looks at him with slight alarm, but Neil is unstoppable, his excitement has returned in full force.

“Andrew—that save! Last night! Oh my god—you. That _save_.” Neil is shaking, a delighted smile taking over his face, unable to put his thoughts into coherent sentences. His nose is throbbing and it’s still a little hard to breathe and the tears in his eyes have spilled over, but he really could not care less.

Andrew raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t know what Neil is referring to.

“Don’t look at me like that, you know what I’m talking about! I just saw highlights of the game on ESPN. _Fuck, Andrew._ That was amazing,” Neil says, full of awe and admiration. He had stopped for gas on the drive here and noticed the cashier was watching Exy behind the counter. His exclamation of “HOLY FUCK” when he saw Andrew’s diving save from a striker less than twenty feet away made the little old lady in line behind him nearly jump out of her skin. Neil had quickly apologized and sprinted out the door, desperate to get to Andrew as fast as possible.

Andrew rolls his eyes and yanks his wrist out of Neil’s hand, going back into the first aid kit to presumably find some butterfly bandages. 

“No, I mean it.” Neil leans forward into Andrew’s space, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.” Neil puts everything he has into making the expression on his face as earnest as possible. He needs Andrew to know how much he admires him, how much he respects his skills on the court. Though Andrew may not care, Neil certainly does.

Andrew just stares back at him for a moment, revealing nothing. Finally, he sighs and raises his free hand to wipe roughly at Neil’s eyes.

“You don’t have to cry about it.”

“Shut up,” Neil huffs. “That’s not my fault.”

“Do you want to do this yourself?” Andrew asks in a mocking tone, letting his hands fall as he leans away.

Neil has just opened his mouth to say that he tended to his own wounds for years and is perfectly capable of doing so now, when a small noise from the other side of the door captures his attention. Scratching.

“You have _got_ to be kidding,” Neil says, Andrew’s earlier exasperation rubbing off on him. He reaches up to scrub a tired hand over his face, but he abandons the move when he realizes what a monumentally terrible idea that would be.

“He lives here,” Andrew points out as he starts to unwrap the bandage he was looking for. “Technically, you’re the intruder.”

Neil scoffs. “I sacrificed my face to save one of his nine lives less than fifteen minutes ago,” he says, incredulous and honestly a little peeved that Sir is trying to monopolize Andrew. “The least he could do is give me some space while I try to recover.”

“You would need more than a bit of space to recover from your ever-expanding plethora of issues,” Andrew deadpans. “Don’t blame the cat.” He places the bandage over the cut and smoothes down the edges. His face is so close that Neil can count the freckles that are scattered across his nose. 

Neil doesn't reply, simply allows Andrew to continue his ministrations. He cleans away the rest of the blood surrounding Neil’s nose, carefully prodding at it to make sure it isn't broken. Neil has counted 43 individual freckles when Andrew speaks, barely loud enough to be audible. 

“It felt good.”

Neil blinks at him. Blinks again. Cocks his head in question, waiting for him to elaborate. 

Andrew huffs out a breath, like he isn't being cryptic at all and Neil should just read his mind. “The save,” he says through gritted teeth. “It felt good.”

Neil is fully aware that his jaw is hanging open and his eyes are so wide they might just pop out of their sockets, but he is in no position to do anything about it. 

Andrew busies himself with rearranging everything inside the first aid kit to match exactly how he found it, doing his best to avoid eye contact. Neil knows it isn’t for his benefit, but nonetheless, he is thankful for the moment’s reprieve to collect himself. He wants to launch into an interrogation, begging for details and singing praises, but he knows just how well that would be received. 

Instead, he says, “Hey,” and reaches out with one hand to still Andrew’s fidgeting movements. Then, he threads the other lightly through his hair, coming to rest with a soft hold on his jaw and a thumb on his cheekbone. Neil feels the tension drain out of Andrew after a moment, and when he finally looks up, Neil leans in to kiss him. Not urgent, not demanding. A thank you. Thank you for telling me. Thank you for trusting me. 

Andrew responds, most likely grateful that Neil didn’t ask for anything more from him. His hands come up to Neil’s ribs, twisting in his shirt in an attempt to pull him closer, while his mouth moves toward Neil’s neck. Neil happily obliges, bringing one leg up underneath himself to eliminate the space between them. In the process though, he knocks the carefully balanced first aid kit to the floor, its contents spilling far and wide. 

The sound of it shocks them both, and when they sharply turn to look for the source, Andrew’s forehead bangs into Neil’s nose. 

“Jesus, _fuck_ ,” Neil says, hands flying to his face in a too-late attempt at protection. He sees stars for a few seconds, then his vision clears and he can just make out Andrew’s small smirk directed at him for the second time in under an hour. 

“You are enjoying this way too much,” Neil tells him, voice muffled by his hands.

Andrew is unperturbed and makes no reply, but he leans in, grabbing Neil’s wrists and gently pulling them away. His nose isn’t bleeding again, thankfully, but Andrew leans closer still, presumably to inspect it.

He is silent for a moment before looking up at Neil, narrowing his eyes as he says, “You’re not going to cry again, are you?”

Neil laughs and shoves Andrew’s hands away. “Shut up,” he says again, smiling all the while. He moves to the floor to begin picking up the lost first aid items. He hands them to Andrew who puts them back into their assigned spaces. The scratching at the door starts up again, and Neil grudgingly rises up to open it, letting both Sir and King rush into the bathroom. Sir hops up immediately into Andrew’s lap, while King turns right back around and sprints out the door, having quickly found god-knows-what to chew on. 

Neil turns to stare at Sir, narrowing his eyes as Sir simply meows up at him. Andrew picks him up and stands, brushing past Neil on his way out. Neil returns the first aid kit to its proper home and turns off the light, following Andrew into the hallway.

Later, when they’ve finally climbed into bed and Neil is barely conscious, he feels a hand in his hair and hears Andrew’s quiet voice. 

“You’re scrubbing the blood off my table before you leave.”

**Author's Note:**

> friends, brethren, comrades. you already know how grateful i am for the time you take to read my words! i can never thank you enough <3
> 
> title from "A Million Miles" by mansionz. please do yourself a solid and listen to this album.
> 
> come scream with me on tumblr @theordinaryvegan


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